#or else will would be wearing short shorts

[hanasnx]

PANTY-STEALING, PART TWO — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: part one. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ what it says on the tin, panty stealing ノ voyeurism ノ inappropriate thoughts about reader ノ sexual content.

It’s been several days since CLARK KENT’s stunt in his bedroom, narrowly escaping your discovery of him finding and pocketing your used panties. He’s been beating himself up over it ever since, his guilt distracting him from devising a sound plan to replace them naturally. You’d already asked if he’d seen any of your “missing clothes” avoiding mentioning your undergarments directly, but he could tell what you were hinting at. Coolly he had shrugged knowing your dirty panties sat in the top drawer of the nightstand in the loft of his barn.

He nearly punched a hole through his forehead with the impact his fist when he realized he should’ve just washed it with the rest of his laundry, playing it off like he simply didn’t know it was in his hamper. It’s past the point of no return, if he did it now after you questioning him it would look suspicious! His thoughts run away with him.

Lying awake for yet another night about it, he swallows hard staring up at the ceiling. Cramped on this little couch, he’d taken it as a courtesy and you’ve been sleeping in his room. You’ve been sleeping in his… bed. Memories of that little silk robe you wore invade his otherwise purer mind: the glimpse of your ass under the impossibly short hem, how perky your tits were cold and fresh from the shower, how you must’ve been wearing nothing under it—

Clark digs the heels of his hand into his eyes to symbolically avert them, growling softly in frustration. The crest of his watch digs into the tendon on the top of his hand, and he throws his arms down at his sides, a little squished because of his width compared to the sofa.

He wonders if you’re wearing anything in his bed. You’re a type hard to pin down, somewhat unpredictable in what you say versus what you do. If you’re in his bed, you might say you’re in pajamas, but you’re hiding the fact you’re naked in a guy’s bed you aren’t dating. He’s seen the room since you’ve taken it over—you didn’t even change the sheets. It smells like him, he’s sure, and he hopes it’s a good thing. His fingers twiddle with the stringy crochet of the blanket over his stomach at the thought that you might like the way he smells. You might’ve kept the bedding because you think he smells nice. You might rub your nose into his pillow and take a deep breath while your bare body shimmies against his sheets. That perfect silhouette imprinting into his mattress is enough to twitch his dick. It’s the kind filling out like it’s looking for something: standing in the direction of the nearest hole.

His palms fly to cup it comfortingly, trying his best to sooth its ache while he squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to ponder anything else—anything that’s not completely objectifying to a house guest. The confines of his grip only anger it, spiting him by pridefully hardening to a painful degree that makes him grit his teeth. The kind of feeling that drives him to trudge out to his barn in the dead of night and open that nightstand drawer just for a peek—just for a touch—just for a—

The next day he avoids you like the plague. If you loftily call his name, “Cla-a-r-rk!” singing it like a song, he has to ignore the melody to make himself scarce. The last thing he needs is to be caught in a close space with you and give himself away. As soon as he even hears you come around, his entire body erupts into some kind of bizarre full-figure blush, heart leaping out of his chest to spring into action.

He can’t look you in the eyes when the night before his cum joined yours, staining the delicate part of your panties—since dried. Having wrapped his big hand around it, and jacked off until his balls didn’t hurt anymore, he couldn’t even look himself in the eye. There’s no way he can return them to you, but he can’t seem to get rid of them either. The fragile fabric crumpled up and back in that drawer.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

solo chan masturbation

warnings: gn reader, mentions of oral, unprotected sex, imagined sex while someone else is in the room? idk how to explain that lol

an: am i posting a smutty drabble at 9am on a sunday? the lords day? yes, yes i am. in christopher’s name we pray.

masterlist

‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only • mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼

chris leaned back in his chair, legs spread wide, hands rubbing over his clothed bulge. he liked to take his time, would much rather go home to you, or at the very least give you a call. but it was late and he knew you were asleep. he needed to finish this track. it was due tomorrow, but he couldn’t focus. his cock was so painfully hard.

he closed his eyes, doing his best to picture you kneeling in front of of him, hidden under the desk. it was a fantasy he conjured up quite often actually. your cute little hands hooking in the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down to his ankles. he did just that, lifting his hips off the chair to scoot his clothing down his legs. he imagined your face, your pretty eyes, looking up at him from under his cock. your little tongue giving quick licks to his balls as his heavy shaft rested against your cheek.

his fingertips ghosted over his leaking tip as he imagined it. he reminded himself he needed to be quick. he had work to do. he couldn’t wear himself out too much. just a quickie. just enough to clear you from his system for a little while so he could focus.

as he wrapped his hand around himself, he imagined it was your lips. he imagined he was sliding into your warm mouth, instead of his fist. one of your favorite things to do was have him in your mouth, he knew that. so it happened frequently and he could picture it vividly in his mind. what your tongue felt like as it laid flat against the underside of his shaft, teasing the vein that ran to his tip.

sometimes when he was feeling impatient, he would tangle his fingers in your hair and force you to take him down your throat. the tip of your nose brushing his little dark curls at his base as you gagged around him. he loved the sound of it. loved the feeling of your drool sliding down his skin, dripping onto the floor.

“fuck..” he breathed, eyes shut tight, lost in his fantasy.

sometimes he would let himself wonder what it would be like to have you suck him off under the desk while there were other people in the room. of course, he would never actually do this. but sometimes, like in this moment, he let his mind wander to the thought of you taking all of him, your lips brushing against his balls, as seungmin recorded his part in the booth.

he imagined your groans leaking out from around his cock, trying to remain quiet as you touched yourself over your clothes as you pleased him. he thought about what it would be like to give seungmin direction, tell him to hold this note longer, pronounce this word like this, as he fucked himself into your mouth.

would he be able to keep it a secret? would he be able to hold himself back? or would he have to tell seungmin that his part was finished, just so he could get him to leave. so he could pull you up from the floor and bend you over the desk, your face against the keyboard, accidentally erasing all the work he just did with seungmin. but he wouldn’t care.

he imagined burying his cock deep inside you, finally getting some relief.

“shh.” he whispered aloud to the empty room, talking to imaginary you. “just let me— fuck. just let me use you.”

the sound of him fucking his fist filled the dark studio. but in his mind you were begging him to cum, begging him to fill you up.

the thought of your fucked out expression as you looked over your shoulder at him, your lust filled eyes and messy hair, your drool covered chin, sent him over the edge.

“fuck.. fuck i’m cumming..” his cock twitched in his hand and he quickly reached for a tissue from the box he kept just for this reason. he placed it against his tip, catching all of his release. what a waste, he thought. it belonged deep inside you, not in this tissue. that was your cum. it belonged to you.

he caught his breath, cleaning himself up and tossing the tissue into the trash. the embarrassment washed over him then as he opened his eyes and returned to the real world. the studio was still dark and empty, the clock read 3:45 am instead of 3:15, and his computer was still open to the song that had been frustrating him so.

though embarrassed, he also felt relieved, his body felt relaxed. he pulled his shorts back up and straightened himself in his chair. he was determined to get this finished.

so he could go home and fuck you properly.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Professor!Viktor Headcanons

Professor!Viktor who just knows you're not in mechanical engineering 101 to learn anything. Every week you come to class, sit in the front row at the table closest to his desk, and openly stare at him like there's nobody else around you. You rest your cheek in the palm of your hand, with a slight pout of your plump lips, and watch him like a lovesick puppy. You always wear tops that are much too low and skirts that are much too short for university, and he's certain it’s only to check what makes him tick. But if you think that's going to be enough, you're sorely mistaken: there are few people he dislikes more than those who go through school mindlessly, without any intent to study or to give it their all. And you're not the first, nor the last, to try and get his attention like this. So, he ignores you.

Professor!Viktor who is genuinely surprised to see the result of your first class quiz is an A+. A stroke of luck, maybe? But then comes the second quiz, and the third, and the first big assignment, and you ace all of them brilliantly. He can't help a few wayward glances towards you during his lectures, trying to understand how you do it. The button of your dress shirt is pulled so tightly it might give out at any moment, and he can see the colour of your bra without meaning to: a vibrant lavender with pale lace. You're still looking at him with that enamoured look in your eyes, batting your eyelashes, visibly not absorbing a single word he says.

Professor!Viktor who asks you to come by his office after class at the mid-semester, because it's driving him insane. You keep getting the top marks for every single exam, but you never show an inkling of attention in class. All you do is sit there, dumb and pretty, begging him with your eyes to take you right there and then. You probably wouldn't even mind if it was in front of the other students; maybe that's part of whatever steamy fantasy goes through your mind during his lectures. Since last week, you've started ‘accidentally’ letting your pen fall off your desk, bending down at ridiculous angles to show him (and only him) the full expense of your thighs and the thin fabric of your panties. Your lack of subtlety is becoming as outrageous as it is a little endearing. And yes, he would be lying if he said it didn't affect him, that he didn't have frustrating thoughts of you at night. Thoughts he absolutely shouldn't have towards a student of his, no matter how blatantly flirtatious. But the conundrum that you are has managed to crawl under his skin, and he wants to fuck some respect for academia into you. He wants to give you exactly what you've been pleading for for weeks, until you understand exactly why you should have listened to him in class. But he has to know the truth behind your grades, first. If it turns out you've been cheating, then he'll expel you from the course without a second thought. But if you haven't…

Professor!Viktor who makes you sit on a chair in his office, opting to stand in front of you. He had intended it to be intimidating, but it's clearly having the opposite effect with the wanting expression on your face, your lips slightly parted in waiting. He’s certain that with only one word from him, you'd be on your knees and ready to suck his cock. And it's an idea that's getting harder and harder to resist, with that infernal way you always look at him. He thinks it might be the first time he’s heard your voice when you speak up. It sounds as pretty as the rest of you, just asking to be broken down into pants and moans. He’s very disappointed to learn all you've been doing is recording his lessons with your phone, and listening to them again at home. But then, you confess to something else.

Professor!Viktor who is unable to reply immediately, because the thought of you, riding a vibrator as you listen to recordings of him talking about linear algebra, is absolutely maddening. He can't get over the fact that you're so focused on his voice when you fuck yourself on your toys that you manage to remember all of the basics of kinematics for the exams. It's an unorthodox method, without a doubt, but you've proven its efficacity; and who is he to tell you how to best do your studying?

Professor!Viktor who agrees to let you keep audio recording his classes for the rest of the semester, and who promises that if you keep up the string of perfect grades, he’ll let you have the real thing at the end.

[osachiyo]

searched pervy xavier here and am very disappointed that i do not share this notion with anyone else 😔

tws: n/sfw content, panty stealing, getting caught, mentions of non-consensual recording, masturbation, reader brings other ppl home, he’s a lil pathetic but we love him, 0.6k+ wc, jealous!xavier, he’s a lil nasty tbh, my writing is messy here cuz I wrote this on a whim apologies if there are any errors ₊ 𓂃 also nonnie me 🤝 you … but imagine him as your pervy roommate . ps. art by rororo_mg on X + star dividers made by @saradika-graphics (check emout!)

Perv roommate!Xavier thinks you’re so damn cute, honestly, you're just the sweetest thing ever. Every morning, he can't help but smile when he sees you in the kitchen, making breakfast for the both of you. There's something about the way you move so effortlessly, humming to yourself while you cook, that completely melts his heart and makes his cock stir in his sweats. He can’t help but stare at the little shorts barely covering your plump ass fully.. fantasizing about walking up behind you and bending you over the kitchen counter. Xavier imagined how your cunt would taste on his tongue- how your pussy would gush in his face as he ate you out like a man starved.

perv roommate!Xavier makes a habit to purposefully drop stuff in front of you, giving you his best puppy eyes and requesting that you pick it up for him, and it worked like a charm every time. Little did you know that it was only an excuse to have you bend over in front of him— azure eyes raking over the tempting view you put on, saliva gathering in his mouth as he stared at the roundness of your ass. Hell, he could even see your puffy pussy lips through your tight shorts— were you wearing them on purpose?

perv roommate!Xavier who knows about your little toys— the baby pink vibrator that you use at night, not knowing your roommate is pleasuring himself to your sweet little moans and yelps. His hand squeezing his cock tightly, trying to imagine how your soft cunt would feel around him— or even your cute little mouth. He’d try and match his thrusts to your moans, and it makes him cum embarrassingly quick— sticky white goop spilling on his bedroom floor and hands, leaving him panting. Maybe he should set up a camera in your room sometime..

perv roommate!Xavier who gets jealous when you bring a random guy home one night, telling him that you’ll try not to be loud. ‘Why would you bring another guy home when he was right there?’ — he thought, as he heard the wet, lewd sounds of you getting fucked by another man. Fuck, it made him mad but also he couldn’t help but get turned on by it. The sounds of your bed creaking- slamming against the wall, your wails and cries of pleasure as you got pounded into the sheets made Xavier’s cock throb in his pants. God, he really was a freak— getting off to another man fucking the girl he liked.

perv roommate!Xavier who would insist on doing laundry for the both of you— but that's only an excuse to steal your panties. He can't help it, y'know? They're so cute and pretty.. and just perfect to wrap around his cock while he fucks his fist with the thought of you in his mind. Sometimes he even likes to sniff 'em, groaning out loud as the scent of your pussy floods his senses. He can't help but lap his tongue over the small wet spot on the thin material, suckling at the spot where your clit would be— moaning and whining as spurts of pre leaked from his cock.

perv roommate!Xavier who was currently jerking his cock with your used panties wrapped around his cock in the living room— shamelessly getting off to the thought of fucking your sweet, warm little hole while you were at work. He was so focused on how you would feel around him, that he didn't even hear the front door open. You could only gasp at the sight— his cream colored sweater pulled up and pants pulled down, and clenching and unclenching with each pump of his hand- wait.. were those your panties?! Before you could even reprimand him— or even get a word in, for that matter, Xavier's head whipped to your direction as he heard the small noise— his panicked blue eyes catching your own shocked ones.

"Oh. Shit."

[sabertoothwalrus]

my thought process that went into these designs:

Phoenix - took a lot of inspiration from his scrapped concept art with the facial hair and sweater vest. Took away the gold chain but gave him gold buttons on his sleeves as a compromise. I think he’d wear pointed toed shoes. Decided I’d give everyone patterns, and settled on houndstooth for Phoenix.

Edgeworth - Mostly unchanged from his latest design. I like the scrapped design of his hair with the side part, but added fringe his bangs can still be an ‘M’ lol. his vest is blue to represent how Phoenix has been an influence on him 🤭

Klavier - he was tricky! I wanted him to feel more mature, less rockstar, but not boring. Took away the Gavinners logo. Made him more buttoned up but the shirt is SHEER. Bell bottoms felt so right on him. I think there’d be a running gag in-game where he never puts the jacket on, and Apollo and Athena always joke to each other about it. I’m imagining a sprite animation where he’s like 🥺 and has it draped over his head. His nail polish is colorpicked from someone else’s tie 👀

Apollo - Kept him mostly the same. His face is a little more angled. Added a third piece of fringe that hangs down (influence from Phoenix) and made his hair slightlyyyy longer. Gave him subtle pinstripes and changed his shirt cuff. He has gold hoop earrings now to parallel the bracelet. That + the gold wallet chain gave him a bit of influence from Klavier.

Athena - Took inspiration from 80s/90s womens businesswear. BIG shoulderpads and a bolo tie Widget. She’s sporty and active so I thought shorts would fit her better than trousers. Since she’s no longer wearing tights, I moved the black in her color palette to her shirt. Gave her headphones.

Trucy - wanted to REALLY freshen up her design but still stay true to the Gramarye costume. I took inspiration from ringleaders and gave her epaulettes, but kept the jacket sleeveless because it felt more true to her. Cropped her hair! She has Thalassa’s other bangle now. Minidress is simpler now, but has pinstripes. Put her brooches back into the design on her boots.

Gumshoe - he’s a papa :3 his kids are named Callum and Beau. His animations with a baby carrier would be so funny. Blue badger fanny pack and socks cause I wanted to give him disney dad vibes, and I could see the bag used as evidence in a trial. Little doggy bag keychain because he’s retired from detective work and is now running a dog walking service. He was on vacation and had to get called in as a witness.

Maya - she’s hasn’t left her duties, but she’s on vacation! She’s fully embraced the tourist aesthetic. Steel Samurai keychain on her bag. She’s the OG sillygirl and I needed to preserve her whimsy, her 30s be damned. She would wear bootcut jeans and I know this in my soul.

Pearl - I….. certainly made some choices here HFHSJDJSJD She’s fully embraced gyaru fashion. Maybe every subsequent game she’s switched to another niche fashion trend..? Since I made such a bold departure I kept her in modified Kurain clothing. She got arrested :/ Her hair and makeup would get so fucked up and one of her nails would be missing. Apollo defends her.

I spent so much time making these and had a lot of fun!! :D

wanted to try a lineup of possible aa7 designs after another timeskip! I didn't get to it, but I want the new judge to be the old one's granddaughter.

[rimqueen]

sweetpea… please write jimmy leaving his girlfriend to overdose at curly’s place like you said 😭

tw for overdose, cocaine, drug use, shitty bf jimmy, blood, death and shitty writing

“Hiii, Curly.” You’re clutching onto his doorframe, blinking at him rapidly, one of your false lashes is MIA.

Jimmy is close behind, smiling too hard for it to actually be Jimmy. Jesus. It’s a little scary. Like he’s wearing someone else’s face, the skin stretched thinly over his bones is looking worn. He shoulders past Curly and makes himself comfortable on the couch he has called home so many times.

“Woah, okay—Hey, hey, Jim.” Curly catches you when you stumble, clammy hands on his chest to steady yourself. “What’s all this about?” He’s too old for this. Too old to think Jimmy is cool for snorting crack off public bathroom counters, too old to be anything but worried.

“Nothin’, man.” Jimmy waves a dismissive hand his way. “She just overdid it, your place is closer than mine.”

You blink up at Curly with a dopey smile as he sets you down beside your boyfriend. “You’re sooo nice, Curly,” you slur, tucking your legs beneath you, it takes a few attempts but you make it there. “Just the best, like, so nice, you know any girl would be lucky to have you.”

Good ol’ reliable Curly. Got a big ol’ shoulder to lean on. Big ass back to stab. Curly who cannot keep him at arms length.

So he sits down like a dumbass and chaperones the two of you as Jimmy, loyalty card in hand, cuts up another few lines on the coffee table. Curly opts out, mumbling about blocked sinuses and a short nasal passage. He takes a dollar bill from your purse and rolls it up, dexterous fingers that only get put to use for one thing in particular. Jimmy snorts it, tips his head back, thumbing the edge of his nose, his smile crooked and lazy when he passes the bill over to you.

You do the same.

Snort it, tip your head back, sniffle, wipe your nose.

Your head doesn’t fall back into place. You stay like that for one second, two seconds, three seconds, four, five—

Foam dribbles down your chin, and your body jerks backwards until you are sprawled on the floor lifelessly like a discarded mannequin.

“Holy shit.” Curly jumps to his feet, floundering, breathing just as hard as you are trying to breathe. “Holy shit, Jim. Holy shit, she’s fucking—Jesus Christ.”

“Fuck, shut up, Curly, I know, I know—I’ve got this,” says Jimmy, who has not got this, who has not got fucking anything at all, like, ever. So why would he have this? “C’mon, baby.” He smacks you hard, somehow managing to look unfazed and completely unhinged. “Don’t die on me, I’ll fucking kill you, you… Fucking shit, shit, shit.”

There is so much blood seeping into Curly’s new shag rug. He is going to pass it off as wine when his mother visits. You’re twisting and choking and kicking your legs, putting up a nasty fight and nobody has bothered to call a fucking ambulance, nobody wants to deal with the fucking consequences. There is a girl overdosing in his lounge and Jimmy is going to go back to jail and—

“Where are you going?” Curly asks, horrified as you fit on the ground while your boyfriend pulls on his jacket. “Jim, where are you going, are you fucking serious?”

“I can’t—“ Jimmy motions with his hand at you, at himself. “I can’t fucking go back there, man, shit, not for this, not for her.”

You’re not worth it, not worth hospital bills and phone calls and court dates.

So they let it happen.

Jimmy helps you ride it out, kissing your face and cupping your tit like it is going to do anything at all.

And when you go cold, he rolls you up in Curly’s shag rug to keep you warm, it’s a two-man job, lifting all this dead weight, but Jimmy does it all on his own while Curly sits there jittering.

“There’s a creek nearby,” Curly tells him, white-knuckling the arm of the sofa.

“How about that job you were talking about?” Jimmy murmurs soberly.

[beckwritesif]

The vast stretches of lone trees and wild grass of the rural countryside lures the ego overboard, pulling consciousness off course into addiction, delusion and seduction’s disintegrating madness. You barely pull yourself home from there every evening, the sun telling your time, the birds your weather forecast. One day you might not return home at all.

From the Mud is a Midwest gothic inspired horror set in a solitary countryside occupied only by two small towns and stretches of untamed nature. You play a troubled cowboy/girl/puncher who‘s ground deep into a maddening, repetitive routine that a string of deaths suddenly upends. The sheriff of the neighboring town along with a driven journalist and an old friend whose bridge you’ve long since burnt comes to town having heard the news. As you’re hunting for the culprit and running from yourself, your quiet life on the ranch is disturbed, forcing you to keep your cards close and choose your company carefully. But the most pressing matter proves to be whether you can trust your own mind.

From the Mud

☆ Interactive fictional psychological horror written in choice script

Features

Play as either a man, woman, or other

Choose your appearance from overall features to minor details

Experience nuanced romance as either straight, gay, or bi, or forgo romance altogether

Choose whether you’re religious or not in an overly christian rural town

Experience the world react differently towards you depending on who you identify as

Get wrapped up in the chaos to solve the mystery of several murders

Lose touch with reality and slowly question everything around you

Reject the possibility of unnatural forces at play, or believe

Rot in a jail cell

Ride a horse!

Play a game mostly not driven by numbered stats but meaningful actions and a fuck ton of trackers

Demo TBA soon | pinterest

Basics about some of the important characters and other below

The Sheriff ☆ Zachariah “Zach” Mallory ☆ a man in his mid thirties

Sheriff Mallory works from his office in Two Rocks, and though his occupation means working closely with other people and seeing to their needs, it would be indolent to describe him as being good with people. At all. Being abrasive and ill-natured, the man does, however, suit the role of authority well. When the angry crease on his forehead soften, you might find there is something else within his tired eyes.

The sheriff has dark brown, chin-length hair and a matching little effort short beard. His sand-colored skin is sun-kissed from being outside, the circles under his eyes almost a purple kind of shade. Under a heavy set of brows sits a pair of dark blue, almost stormy gray eyes. Standing at an imposing height, Mallory is nigh refused anything, and can’t be forced to wear the ugly uniform his rank requires. Instead, he sports a simple white fitted t-shirt and a pair of well-loved denim jeans.

The Journalist ☆ Candy Tillman ☆ a woman in her early thirties

Working for the local news station in Two Rocks, Ms. Tillman has through work experience and excellent mentoring from her predessessor become a hound chasing stories and truths. She is both idealistic and romanticizing (that which shouldn’t), and yet entirely unsusceptable to bullshit. When her facade falters who will accept her then?

The woman with the sweetest name has blonde hair that falls to the middle of her shoulder blades, which she loves to blowout. Her tan skin is contoured by a natural style of makeup, her small, light blue eyes painted. Candy is average height, reaching taller stature with her go-to minimalist pumps. The journalist prefers simple, feminine silhouttes of clothing, keeping up with the times.

The Best Friend ☆ Blythe Abel Goodwin ☆ a woman in her mid twenties

Blythe is your best friend who you grew up with in Ashley and who stuck around when everyone left, though you know she would’ve loved to leave just as much as you once did. In response to the death of her dreams and the narrow-minded opinions of the general inhabitation of the area, she has defiantly become a person of unique and unpredictable character. You’ve known each other through thick and thin, but is there a side to her yet to be discovered?

Your childhood friend is a contrast-filled woman just under average height. Long, black, cascading hair falls from her head down to her mid-back. Choppily home-cut bangs frame her small face. Her fair skin turns rosy in the cold. Blythe’s almond eyes that are sometimes obscured by a pair of reading glasses, are hazel. She wears whatever the fuck she wants.

The Colleague ☆ Ford Wiley Mallory ☆ a man in his early twenties

Ford Wiley is the younger half-brother of Sheriff Mallory and your colleague on the ranch. Working there only half-time, the younger Mallory is dedicated and driven only in the field of his passion; music. His band has only ever played at the local bar, though. Reserved and perhaps somewhat more thin-skinned than most living out on the countryside, Wiley makes do with refreshing optimism. Whether this optimism is genuine or fabricated is yet to be revealed.

Your part-time cowboy coworker has long, wavy brown hair that he sometimes makes an effort to style, and otherwise lets it live its own life. He and his half-brother have little in common, appearance included; Wiley has olive skin covered in freckles. His eyes are dark brown, and he is of average height. The musician’s clothes consist of unwanted (by himself) hand-me-downs from Zachariah and ill-gotten items.

The Old Friend ☆ Sawyer “Saw” Brennan ☆ a gender selectable person in their late twenties (m/f)

You grew up with Sawyer along with Blythe, and the three of you braved your childhood and youth in this godforsaken place for years. But they left when things got hardest, and you haven’t been able to get past it even after all these years. Over the years Sawyer has been away they’ve grown into a person you barely know anymore, and you struggle with their sudden return. Will you be able to understand and forgive them for leaving?

Sawyer has inky brown curly hair, worn long (f) or short (m) and loose, carefully taken care of and styled. They have warm brown skin and sharp eyes to match. Your old friend is tall, fitting their frame into oversized graphic t-shirts and either color matched sweats or baggy jeans.

My intentions with this game: It is not supposed to be a beautiful story, it is supposed to be ugly. Writing this game in the way I am is my taking a step away from perfection and seeing where my unpolished writing takes the story. I have been ruled by fear of inadequacy and a desire for ‘perfect timing’ long enough. If I continue to wait for the ‘right moment’ to create, I will end up not creating at all. My only desire now is to simply create, and continue doing so until I have something to show for it.

[sepherinaspoppies]

ooh okay! this gives me something to do lol since im currently struggling to finish this damn paragraph...

this is for Vidalia Torres

🎶 - It's very hard for me to describe Vida's voice. Since I'm her author, I know how she sounds like. Though, I can say she does have a gentle voice, smooth but stammers a bit when anxious. It's not super high pitched, but maybe somewhat. She is no fan of raising her voice either.

👀 - Vida is short, perhaps around 4'10-5'1 range. She inherits her height from her abuela, Selena. Yet Selena is around 5'2. Not only does she inherit her height but skin tone as well. I envisioned Vidalia to have a dark tan complexion with straight-dark brown hair and silver strands of hair that she believes is vitiligo hair. But later in the story it is revealed where the silver comes from. She has a long neck, high cheekbones, only one dimple, and multiple moles on her face and body. Vida isnt super slender, but not plump either. She is full breasted and average sized hips. Vida has two vertical scars at her back from emergency surgery she had when she was born.

💐 - anemone!

👗- I see Vida having a love for medieval bohemian clothes. She is very much into wearing second hand clothes. She taught herself how to use a sewing machine and wears whatever she invented.

🌼 - Mexican artisan-boho aesthetic? I'm not too sure lol

💌 - Very giddy but suspicious cause who on earth would give her one 👀

🤦‍♀️ - when she said another man's name during sex LMAO

😊 - her work and family.

💢 - I think Vida would try her best to ignore whoever (Aemond) is annoying her. But if they continue, she'll start to curse them out lol.

🦸‍♀️ - I'm gonna go with Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz lol.

🐕 - Cats and horses!

🥘 - Chocoflan or Pizza

🍸- Strawberry tequila sunrise or a margarita

🌹 - Mmm, Vida loves anything earthy and sweet.

😱 - Being stuck in Westeros forever with Aemond.

🎁 - Vidalia loves gifting because she adds so much thought to every gift she gives, a personal touch. I think she'd tear up if someone gave her a gift lol.

🎳 - Definitely reading. Anything and everything.

👤 - Alone, but she doesn't mind being around family.

🤝 - I'd say she is. Alike her grandfather, she likes helping people. She sucks at communicating though, but it's something she's learning to be better at.

🍁 - Fall. It's spooky and dark. What else can I say lol?

Describe your OC or a character ask game

🎶 - How do they sound? Describe their voice

👀 - How do they look like? Give an overall description of them

💐 - Their favorite plant/flower

👗-Describe their style

🌼 - Assign them an aesthetic

💌 - How would they react to a love letter?

🤦‍♀️ - Something that continues to embarrass them to this day

😊 - Something that always makes them smile

💢 - How do they handle being annoyed?

🦸‍♀️ - What would they dress as for Halloween?

🐕 - Favourite animal?

🥘 - Favourite food?

🍸- Favourite drink?

🌹 - Do they have a signature scent? Perfume, shampoo or alike?

😱 - Their biggest fear

🎁 - Are they good at giving gifts? How about receiving them?

🎳 - Do they have hobbies? If yes, what are they?

👤 - Do they enjoy being alone, or do they thrive around people better?

🤝 - Are they good with people? Are they able to get along with people and communicate effectively with the people around them?

🍁 - Their favourite season and why?

[whatdoidosatoru]

shush, frog boy

sebastian doesn't realise the impact his sleepwear has on his wife. he's soon going to find out. pairing: sebastian x fem farmer (stardew valley) wc: 2938 tags: smut, body worship, oral (f and m receiving), sex, doggy style mdni! SAVE US FROGGY PJS “you makin’ coffee?” a sleepy voice followed by a long yawn stilled my hand as i was pouring hot water from the kettle into a large mug. I turned my head to look at my sweet sleepy husband coming from the bedroom, but…

“darlin’ what are you…” i couldn’t finish the sentence, the words stuck in my throat like a hairball and my heartbeat quickened.

sebastian was wearing those damn pyjama bottoms and nothing else apart from the blue mermaid pendant sitting comfortably above his chest. i could’ve sworn he had a shirt on when i had crawled into bed at nearly two in the morning dead tired, i could’ve sworn he was dressed. oh boy.

“you’re wearing the frog pyjamas, baby?” i tried to sound nonchalant, but the attempt was doomed from the start. the waistband hung low on his hips and with the way he was leaning against the door frame there was no way i could make it out alive. his lean body was on full display, the little trail of hairs going from his belly button and disappearing into the waistband of his dark green pyjamas, the silly frog print almost making the scene comical if it weren’t for the delicious way they sat on his hip bones, just under the band of his boxers.

to be on the safe side, i put the coffee cup down, right next to his designated cup that i’d taken out just in case he woke up with the sound of the kettle going. and it was a good shout, for i would’ve dropped it once he sleepily chuckled at my distress.

“don’t tell me the frogs are doing it for you…” his voice was raspy, throat only just getting warmed up for the day, doing absolutely nothing to stop the heat spreading through my body, though not from the hot drink i had just poured.

it was getting a little harder to focus on the words flowing from his sleepy smirk, especially after yet another yawn, now with his arms stretching over his head and touching the top of the door frame.

“if i’d known this seduces you i’d–” he cut himself off, a little surprised to see me walking towards him with my shirt already halfway over my head. as soon as i dropped it on the floor, it was clear that my jeans were next. they were left in a pile on the floor, a little closer than the shirt.

his smirk turned into a grin, the same grin he always wore when he saw me in nothing but underwear.

“damn, woman.” i yanked his arm, pulling him back into the bedroom from where he had emerged a mere minute ago.

“shush, frog boy.” sebastian laughed at my stupid nickname for him, but i couldn’t focus on that now, my body made it imperative that I get him out of his clothes immediately.

as he landed on his back on the still unmade bed with a light oof, i was already crawling on top of him like a hungry animal about to bite into the juiciest prey. his eyes never left me as i reached the spot under his ear, pressing airy kisses down his neck just to hear him breathe out.

“you’re draggin it o–”

“shush”

sebastian immediately dropped his complaint about taking my time, the shortness of my words and my blunt tone made it clear i wasn’t going to give up on the pace.

slowly, i trailed those soft, barely-there kisses down to his collar bone following them with a little bite, just enough to make him gasp.

the bite turned into two, then three, four, five reddening bruises forming a path down to his stomach. he was breathing heavier, his hands gripping the sheets under us when it was clear he wanted to grip something else. something that would make me moan against his warm skin.

there it was. the hip bone uncovered by the waistband of those silly pyjama bottoms. i sucked a bruise into the skin, feeling his hips buck ever so slightly as i grazed him with my teeth, playing with him. teasing him, he would say. but how is it teasing if i’m going to give you exactly what you want?

emboldened by a soft moan that left my lips and scurried up his body into his ear, sebastian released the crumpled sheets and tangled his long, slender fingers into my hair, tugging on it just a little, letting me know he was getting impatient.

“mmmph, let me… let me do it my way” i begged. the kisses that littered his body were mixed with bruises in the shape of my loving mouth, nearing ever closer to the treasure i was about to uncover.

“fuck, p–” he moaned in despair as i slid my fingers under the waistband of his pyjamas and nothing else, “please for the love of yoba you’re torturing me, woman”

i licked a patch of his skin, covering his happy trail in a thin layer of my saliva; playing with his patience was always my strong suit.

while he squirmed under me, my brain was working overtime. uncaffeinated, unchecked by any sort of idea of time. i was taking my sweet time in worshipping his body, the body that was so often hidden under his comfortable hoodies, only unveiled to me within these four walls. now i had him spread out on the bed and in the palm of my hand – the hand that was dragging itself up his thighs and over his stomach, up all the way to his chest where i dug my fingers into the pale skin, decorating it with marks becoming more visible as i dragged my nails down.

what a tasty husband i have, i thought as i opened my mouth again, pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses on top of his clothed cock, slobbering over it and wetting his boxers with my saliva. his body kept tensing and relaxing, his hips kept bucking up into my face, trying to insert himself into my teasing mouth.

“could just keep you here like this, y’know?” i murmured against his boxers, feeling him tensing as he realised i was being somewhat serious. i could keep him like this, undulating under me as i teased him.

but i wouldn’t be so cruel. with another few wet kisses seared into his body over the damn underwear, i found mercy in my heart, hooking my fingers under the offending fabric and slowly sliding it down his legs until he could use his feet to take over and get rid of it.

this time, my lips landed on his already leaking length.

it was as if a lightning struck both of us, the sudden change in pace made him buck his hips one last time before I pressed them down onto the bed, humming with my lips wrapped tightly around his tip, sucking on it gently, wetting it with built up saliva.

“fffffffuck i–” his tone was whiny, begging.

“mmmph” I moaned with his precum on my tongue, detaching my lips from him only to push my hair out of the way. “fuck you're making me want more.”

before I could get too impatient I brought my mouth down on him again, sucking in my cheeks slightly, making his hands on my scalp tighten around the strands of my hair.

the noises filling the room were downright pornographic, the curses slipping past his light pink lips, the moans I was stringing onto his hard cock… it was both, an auditory heaven and nightmare.

sebastian’s grip in my hair kept tightening, completely in rhythm with my cheeks hollowing out on him. my eyes fluttered, wanting to stay open and see his lovely face contorted in pure pleasure, but the feeling of need making me close them.

“e-enough” he found his voice just to make me stop. i promptly dettached my lips from his cock to protest, together with a string of saliva connecting me to his tip, but he grabbed for me, pulling me up to him so he could kiss me like we hadn’t kissed for months. the kiss was needy, hard, and hot, searing into my lips with how he pressed himself on me. it was almost insane how he could find enough will power to pull me off him just to kiss me like he was trying to eat the air out of my lungs.

and oh.

with one fluid movement he rolled me onto my back, reversing the roles and leaving me so stunned that my hands stopped tracing his back before i regained some sense of self and continued touching along up to his shoulder blades.

“you’ve done enough” he whispered against my pouty lips before pressing one last kiss to them.

“n-no i–” as soon as i started talking his lips were on my throat, promptly shutting me up as he interchanged between them and his teeth, grazing my skin downwards, bound for the edge of my bra.

“all ‘cause of some damn pyjamas…” he murmured the words against my breast, now pushing the material of the bra up to take my nipple into his mouth, vibrating it with slow humming.

my body is already arched into his, my voice is already echoing in the room, a soft whine leaving my lips as he nips my skin.

“h-haah ‘s not my fault you look–”

“you got me them, woman, and you can’t control yourself around me with them?” he chuckled as his lips trailed my body, down to my stomach where he bit again, sucking a red bruise into my skin with his hands digging under my body and behind my back, blindly unbuckling my bra and sliding it off my body, sending it somewhere onto the floor.

“ca-ah can you blame me? you look sooo–” sebastian’s hand found its way to my lips and pushed two fingers between them, shutting up my excuse as i instinctively started sucking on them.

“there we go, enough excuses” he sounded awfully sure of himself as he trailed his tongue across bruises he was leaving on my hips, only pulling his fingers from my mouth when he used that hand to swiftly take my panties off, making me shiver slightly with the air now hitting my wet center.

he let out a little groan when he pushed my legs up and open, pressing down on my thighs to keep them spread open for him.

“yoba, look at her… pretty and wet f’ me, hm?”

i could nearly laugh at how he clearly tried to tease me like i did to him, but it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t dive right in, tongue flattened against my clit, moving in fluid motions that he knew made me immediately squirm. wasting no time, i grabbed a hold of his hair with both hands, trying so hard to hold on, to stop myself from closing my thighs and suffocating him as he feasted.

it was a mistake to look at his long fingers holding my thigh, all it did was make me moan louder. the thought of him, my husband, holding me like that, of us belonging to each other in that way, set a fire in my abdomen, the ever so familiar heat spread through my body and made my hips roll upwards, into his smirking mouth that just kept moving, either unaware of my efforts or aware and amused.

his licks kept going, from my clit to my entrance, there and back. there and back. again. again, swirling, pressing, biting.

“r-right there” i managed to squeeze out in between whiny moans.

and he listened. he kept his movements contained within my favorite spots, slowly sneaking his fingers towards my cunt, gently pushing two digits inside, making me lift my hips up, causing my thighs to start shaking, my hands to grip his fringe a little tighter, in turn eliciting a deep moan from his lips directly onto my clit. and the cycle started again. his fingers slid a little deeper, twisting, curling inside me, touching along the warm spots that make me lift my hips higher, shaking and quivering under him as my face scrunches in pleasure, moans sounding higher in pitch.

“hnnng s- ah i’m… please don’t stop” i was already whining before then, but my skin felt the shape of his lips, opening a little more each time he licks down, curling into a self-assured smirk when he saw how he turned me into a mess.

a little sucking noise reached my ears, his lips were tightly pressed against my clit as he sucked on it while curling his fingers and repeatedly stroking my sweet spot. i could hardly take it. my eyes flew open and rolled back. i was shaking. lifting my hips up. breathing heavily.

shivers were going up my body and through my face, the only thing that could sort them out was – oh.

“go on” gulp “i got you” sebastian’s voice chased me over the edge i’d been teetering on for a few dragged out seconds, paired with a press of his fingers against my sweet spot and the vibration of his words against my soaked pussy. i cried out for dear life, hips completely off the bed, pressing me closer to his chin while he lapped up all that i had to give.

colors burst behind my eyes, all i could hear in that moment was my own ragged breathing.

“always taste so good” he was smacking his lips, licking off his fingers, wiping his chin, and licking the hand off – yoba save me.

suddenly he was hovering over me, pressing his wet lips against mine and gliding his tongue into my mouth. tasting myself on him, i wrapped my gummy arms around his neck, finding stability after being dissolved in pleasure. sebastian wasn’t done yet, no.

he shuffled me over, rolling me onto my stomach and taking my hips, pulling them up so i had to press my knees deeper into the mattress.

there was a gentle sound as my ass met his hips, a skin-meeting-skin noise followed by immediate rubbing of his erection against my cheeks before he held it in his hands, gently swiping it against my wetness. with a soft moan from him and a gasp from me, sebastian pushed into me.

snug. warm. it was like coming home.

slowly moving to get me used to it, his hip bones collided with my plush skin. my face was all but buried into the crumpled sheets as his cock got sucked into me.

“a-ahh f-faster… you can–” i didn’t even have to finish the sentence for him to bring a hand down on my ass cheek and speed up, making my whole body bounce back and forth, slapping against him in a familiar rhythm, occasionally smacking or kneading my ass and murmuring praise as he held a hand on my lower back, pressing against it to steady us both.

the wave of heat covered my entire body as i heard sebastian grunting quietly behind me, it was getting harder to keep our wits about us, his hips kept stuttering against me. with my cheek pressed against the bed, i whimpered and cursed, getting painfully close to finishing. thank the heavens, i had an attentive husband whose hand snuck around my hips to gently slot a couple of fingers between my soft folds and rub my clit, tight circles making my hips buck against his, so damn close i could taste it.

“you-fuck you okay?” it was his usual question when i get extra vocal, both comforting and teasing at the same time. i hummed in a high pitch affirmatively, unable to verbally answer, the only words on my mind being please, please, so close.

the image of us pressed together like this, of him smacking my ass, making it jiggle and smirking at the effect, swirled in my mind, and with a few more sharp smacks i shivered, thighs trying to close and alleviate the pressure between them. cursing, his pace stuttered a little from being squeezed by my walls, almost like they were squeezing the life out of him. the hand that was pressing against my lower back moved to my hip, squeezing as he brought me against his hips harder, faster, rougher until…

groan.

“fuuuuck”

heavy breathing. he came with a ragged shout.

i could feel warmth spreading in my abdomen, as well as the warmth of his body suddenly draped over my back.

“darlin’...” i murmured against the sheet as his lips found my shoulder, pressing soft kisses and bites on it, humming in question at me while lazily trailing his hands on my sides.

“nothin’... i just love you.”

sebastian slowly pulled out of me and dropped on the bed to pull me into his arms. as always, i could feel the mermaid pendant press against my temple when i leaned on his chest, but it was just another physical reminder of our connection.

“i love you too, weirdo.” he chuckled as i nuzzled closer into his chest before he kissed the top of my head.

“how am i a weirdo?” i sounded almost offended, though i knew he used the phrase only affectionately.

“getting turned on by damn frog pyjamas.” ah. well, he had a point there.

“yeah well you looked alright in them.” my mouth curled into an amused smirk against his warm skin, against one of many bruises i sucked into his chest this morning.

“alright,” he scoffed, “guess i have to wear them every night now.”

[troublerats]

Tell me more about hotdog

hhHOh boy, okay, I'm just gonna start this off with a brief recap.

TL;DR: "Hotdog" Aka. Damara Lalonde, or "Mara" for short, is the adoptive daughter of Roxy Lalonde.

She is the same Damara raised by Doc Scratch who would later become The Handmaid, but was spared this fate when Roxy plucked her directly off the meteor using her void powers.

But I take it you're explicitly not here for a tldr so-

LONG AS FUCK EXPLANATION BELOW

Due to the bizarreness of her situation, a lot of the surviving cast post-game had some part in her upbringing. But most prominently were her mom's (Roxy and June), and Dirk, who served as an uncle of sorts. The latter being where she gets all the Stridisms in her design.

Personality wise: She's still extremely crude like Beforus Damara, but it's from a more direct ironic place meant to catch one off guard or to be absurdly overdramatic, rather than attempting to scare people away. A lot more snarky and confident, but not jaded or mean unless given reason to be.

Her interests include: Godzilla and similarly campy kaiju franchises. Practical effects in general, but mostly anything big dumb and explosive. Any Shonen slop Dirk showed her. Parkour and any reckless dangerous physical activity that would nearly give her friends a heart attack seeing her attempt. And starting sudden random indie projects in a medium she never returns to once she's finished.

Mara lives life fast and doesn't take time to dwell, especially as she's well aware of her own lifespan in comparison to her peers and her family. After highschool, she didn't want to bother with anything academic or to pursue some grand project to leave behind in her wake. Aside from flings, she doesn't really want to pursue a committed relationship either, as the last thing she wants is someone else fussing over her being careful, or bemoaning her short life in the last years she has of it.

It's her's, and her's alone. And she intends to live it to the fullest.

As for the concepts behind her character and creation-

In the shortest terms, Mara is a direct foil to the faults in Rose and Dave's upbringing. As well as an optimistic look to who Alpha Roxy and Dirk could have become despite who they were in the Beta Universe.

Both getting a chance to take supportive parental role's in Mara's life, Roxy more directly in being her mother, and Dirk more indirectly as someone Roxy could depend on to look out for her daughter, and who saw himself in another "out of place" kid.

Mara never had to wear the scarf of her dead mom, or mourn the fact they never truly got to know eachother due to her addiction. She had a loving mother who she knew for a fact supported her interests, and didn't keep things from her.

And instead of a shadowy violent figure that made her feel like she was never good enough, and without Cal's influence, she had someone to teach her to protect herself and who felt more like a trusted friend than another parent.

The parallels continue when brought back to her original upbringing under Scratch, a fate she narrowly avoided in this timeline due to Roxy pulling her off the meteor.

The idea for the whole AU actually initially came from the fact that Damara and Rose have a lot of direct parallels:

-Both use Needle-kind.

-While Rose would threaten suicide, Damara has a parental figure that actually would push her to suicide.

-John makes a comment about Rose seeming more "witch-like" in comparison to Jade, being a Seer and Witch respectively. However Damara actually is a Witch of Time when looking at her role in Beforus.

It makes it almost seem like Scratch will directly fit anyone he manipulates into a specific mold, but that's beside the point.

There are also parallels in Hal/AR being a piece that makes up Scratch/English, despite his initial role being one of sacrifice. But instead of knowing a sliver of Dirk that got ultimately corrupted and morphed into something cruel and unrecognizable, she got to know Dirk in full who never mutated into some kind of sick beast.

Lastly, though this is more of a side note:

Initially, I actually planned Mara to be raised by Scratch for a brief period, but taken before she could serve English. I.E. Instead of spawning green boxes, Roxy pulling a girl out of a green box.

I'm still mulling it over, but me and my wife most of the time lean towards her never having to suffer under Scratch bc Roxy with her stupid hotdog baby is nice fluff. But the narrative of a kid narrowly avoiding a grizzly fate and having severe repressed trauma she can't remember despite her currently good life, is a story element I still gravitate to as someone with DiD, who also headcanons Dirk as having DiD.

So it's sort of up in the air at times whether or not, Troll named Hotdog. Ever actually was. Hotdog shaped.

At least under Roxy's care.

[unabashegirl]

Vicious 16 — hs mafia

After his father's death, Harry Styles must take control of the family mafia while dealing with his unpredictable brother, Silas. He meets Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, and learns about their arranged marriage.

Author's note: Hi everyone, I need your help. I’m $1,000 short on my medical tuition, and the deadline is January 13. With 2,800 followers, even $1 from some of you could make a huge difference. If you’ve enjoyed my writing, please consider donating or sharing. I'M DESPERATE. PLEASE HELP ME! HELP ME HELP MY MOM! I don't know what else I can do. 

⭐️ Please consider donating here --> Ko-Fi 

⭐️ Or joining my Patreon --> Patreon 

Every bit helps! Even if it's just a dollar! 

---> vicious masterlist <---

A few days had passed since Harry's raid on Augusto's house, and his recovery was going well. The doctor had restitched his wounds after his encounter with Y/N, and the healing was progressing smoothly. Giana was also adjusting to her new life. At first, it felt strange for her—she had spent so long living by strict schedules and orders that the freedom she now had seemed unfamiliar, almost unsettling. But slowly, she was beginning to settle in.

“Right. Is there anything else due?” Harry asked, the night was thick with tension as Harry sat behind his large mahogany desk, the glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. His trusted men, Lex and Charlie, stood nearby, their faces hard with the seriousness of the situation. A few other men lingered in the room, their eyes darting toward the door every so often, their hands hovering close to their weapons. The air was heavy, almost suffocating, but Harry remained calm, his sharp gaze fixed on the documents spread before him.

A soft knock on the door broke the silence, and one of his guards entered, cradling a small, wrapped box in his hands. The guard's face was pale, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and uncertainty. He approached Harry’s desk cautiously, holding the box out as if it were a live bomb.

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of the package. There was no mistaking it—this was from Augusto. The wrapping was impeccable, a deep red ribbon tied into a neat bow, but the intent behind it was anything but innocent.

“Boss, this just arrived,” the guard said, his voice trembling slightly.

Harry nodded, his expression unreadable as he reached for the box. He could feel the eyes of his men on him, their tension palpable. Augusto’s reach was long, and his threats were never empty. Harry had known this day would come, the day when Augusto would retaliate for the audacious act of taking Gina.

As Harry began to untie the ribbon, Lex stepped forward, his voice laced with concern. “You know what this is. He’s trying to rattle you.”

“I know,” Harry replied calmly, continuing to unwrap the package with deliberate care. He could feel the weight of the moment, the significance of whatever lay inside. This wasn’t just a message—it was a declaration.

When he lifted the lid, his breath caught in his throat. Inside, on a bed of black velvet, lay a delicate necklace. It was simple, yet Harry recognized it immediately. He had seen Y/N wear it once, years ago, when they had first been introduced. They had both been much younger then, their worlds not yet as intertwined in the web of power and danger that now surrounded them. The memory of her wearing it, her youthful smile, flashed through his mind like a ghost from a past that felt almost unreachable.

But it wasn’t just the necklace. Next to it was a photograph, slightly crumpled, as if it had been handled roughly. Harry’s heart sank as he stared at the image—Y/N, asleep in her bed, her face peaceful, unaware of the eyes that had been on her. He recognized the room immediately; it was taken inside his house, and the pajamas she wore were the same ones she had worn just a few nights ago. The intimacy of the photo, the sheer audacity of taking it, filled him with a cold, seething rage.

Charlie was the first to speak, his voice low and furious. “That sick bastard… They’ve been inside the house.”

Lex’s expression darkened as he leaned in, studying the photo over Harry’s shoulder. “He knows where to hit you.”

Harry’s grip tightened on the box, his knuckles white with the effort to keep his anger in check. Augusto wasn’t just sending a threat; he was proving that he could reach the one person Harry cared about most. The message couldn’t be clearer: Augusto knew Y/N was Harry’s weakness, and he was willing to exploit it without mercy.

But Harry wasn’t about to let Augusto see him falter. He forced himself to breathe, to think clearly. Reacting out of anger would play right into Augusto’s hands.

“He’s trying to bait me,” Harry said, his voice steely despite the storm raging inside him. “But I’m not taking it.”

Lex nodded, his eyes hard. “What’s the plan, then?”

Harry closed the box with a deliberate motion, setting it aside as he rose from his chair. His men straightened, ready for his orders. The rage in his chest had cooled into something more dangerous—determination.

“We fortify the house,” Harry ordered, his voice commanding. “Double the guards, and I want eyes on every corner. Y/N isn’t to be left alone for a second.”

Harry’s eyes lingered on the closed box for a moment longer, the weight of its contents pressing heavily on his mind. He forced himself to exhale slowly, pushing down the fury that threatened to consume him. As his men prepared to leave, he raised a hand, stopping them in their tracks.

“One more thing,” he said, his voice cold and measured. The tension in the room thickened as they turned back to face him. “This doesn’t get back to Y/N. Not a word of it.”

Lex exchanged a concerned glance with Charlie, both of them understanding the gravity of the situation. Harry wasn’t one to hide things from Y/N—at least, not when it came to her safety. But the look in his eyes made it clear that this time was different.

“Boss, are you sure?” Lex asked carefully, his voice tinged with hesitation. “She has a right to know. If Augusto’s getting this close—”

“I said no,” Harry cut in, his tone sharp. His gaze was hard, leaving no room for argument. “She’s got enough on her mind with the wedding coming up. The last thing she needs is more to worry about.”

Charlie shifted uncomfortably, clearly uneasy with the decision. “But if she finds out on her own—”

“She won’t,” Harry interrupted, his voice firm. “And she won’t have to. We’re handling this. Keep it quiet, and make sure nothing slips through the cracks.”

His men nodded, though their expressions betrayed their concern. They knew Harry was right—Y/N didn’t need to be burdened with this, not now. But they could also see the toll it was taking on him. Harry might be acting as if he wasn’t worried, but the tension in his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw, told a different story.

As they turned to leave, Harry’s voice stopped them once more. “And one more thing—keep your distance from her. If she asks why, tell her it’s just business. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”

There was a brief pause before Lex and Charlie nodded in understanding. They could see that this wasn’t just about protecting Y/N—it was about keeping Harry from unraveling. The coldness in his voice, the distance in his eyes, were signs that he was already slipping into a darker place, one where his emotions were tightly locked away.

“Understood, Boss,” Lex said quietly, before leading the others out of the room.

Once the door closed, the silence in the office was almost suffocating. Harry stood still for a moment, staring at the spot where the box had been. He clenched his fists, trying to push away the images of Y/N’s peaceful face in that photo, the necklace she once wore with such innocent pride. The thought of Augusto’s hands being anywhere near her sent a shiver down his spine, one that he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried.

The living room of the manor was filled with the sweet scent of sugar and vanilla, a comforting contrast to the tension that had settled over the house in recent days. Y/N sat on the plush sofa, her gaze fixed on the assortment of cakes laid out before her on the coffee table. Beside her, Gina sat with a soft smile, her presence a rare source of calm amidst the whirlwind of wedding preparations.

The wedding was fast approaching, and while there was still so much to figure out, today’s task was a welcome distraction. Y/N had been looking forward to this—taste testing the cakes, deciding on the perfect one to serve on her big day. It was a small moment of normalcy, one that allowed her to focus on the joy that the wedding should bring, rather than the worries that loomed over her.

“So,” Gina said, picking up a fork and eyeing the first slice of cake with playful seriousness. “Are we starting with the classic vanilla or the chocolate hazelnut?”

Y/N smiled, her heart warming at the sight of her best friend’s playful demeanor. Gina had been through so much, yet she was here, helping Y/N prepare for one of the most important days of her life. It was a reminder of why they had done what they did—why Harry had taken such risks to save her.

“Let’s start with the vanilla,” Y/N decided, reaching for her fork. “Might as well go traditional first.”

They both took a bite, savoring the delicate flavor. The vanilla was rich and smooth, with just the right amount of sweetness. Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, trying to imagine how it would taste on the wedding day, shared with Harry under the gaze of their families and friends.

“It’s good,” Gina said thoughtfully, “but maybe a bit too plain for you two. You need something with more... character.”

Y/N laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I think you’re right. It’s nice, but I want something that stands out.”

They moved on to the next cake, a decadent chocolate hazelnut with layers of ganache and a hint of espresso. Y/N’s eyes lit up as she tasted it, the rich flavors dancing on her tongue.

“Now this,” she said with a grin, “this is something special.”

Gina nodded enthusiastically, taking another bite. “Definitely. It’s bold, but not overpowering. It feels... luxurious.”

As Y/N and Gina continued to debate over the remaining cakes, the warmth of their conversation was briefly interrupted by a glimpse of movement in the hallway. Y/N glanced up just in time to see Harry walking past the living room with Lex, Charlie, and a few of his other men in tow. His expression was stern, focused, the weight of responsibility evident in the way his shoulders carried themselves. But there was something else, something deeper that Y/N had noticed in him recently—a distance, a coldness that hadn’t been there before.

Without thinking, Y/N called out to him. “Harry! Wait a second.”

Harry paused mid-step, turning his head to look at her. His eyes softened slightly when they met hers, but the guarded expression remained. He took a step closer to the doorway, his men halting behind him.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice even, betraying none of the turmoil that Y/N could sense beneath the surface.

Y/N gestured to the table filled with cakes, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “We’re trying to pick out the wedding cake, and I could use your opinion. After all, it is your wedding too.”

Harry’s brow furrowed slightly, and he shook his head. “I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect. I’ve got some business to take care of.”

Y/N wasn’t ready to let him go that easily. There was something about the way he was pulling away lately that gnawed at her, and she wanted—needed—to bridge that gap, even if just for a moment. She set down her fork and walked over to him, her smile growing softer, more coaxing.

“Please, Harry,” she said, her voice gentle as she looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “Just a quick taste. I want to know what you think.”

Harry’s resolve wavered, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement as he looked at her. He tried to hold onto his stern demeanor, but Y/N’s doe eyes were his undoing. He couldn’t help but feel a crack in the icy wall he had built around himself. Despite everything weighing on him, he could never resist her when she looked at him like that.

Gina, watching the exchange from her spot on the sofa, noticed the slight twitch at the corner of Harry’s mouth—a smile he was clearly trying to suppress. She smirked to herself, understanding all too well the effect Y/N had on him.

“Alright,” Harry finally relented, a resigned sigh escaping his lips as he stepped fully into the living room. “But just a quick one.”

Y/N’s face lit up with triumph, and she quickly guided him to the coffee table where the remaining cakes were laid out. Gina moved aside to give him space, a knowing smile still playing on her lips.

“Okay,” Y/N said excitedly, picking up a fork and handing it to him. “We’ve narrowed it down to two—this one is a chocolate hazelnut with a hint of espresso, and the other is a raspberry champagne with vanilla cream. I’m leaning toward the chocolate, but I want to know what you think.”

Harry took the fork, his expression serious as he studied the two slices of cake in front of him. He glanced at Y/N, her eager expression making him feel a warmth that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in days. With a slight shake of his head—more at himself than anything else—he dug into the first slice.

The rich taste of chocolate hazelnut filled his mouth, the flavors perfectly balanced. He chewed thoughtfully, then moved on to the second slice, the tartness of the raspberry mingling with the sweetness of the champagne and vanilla cream. Both were excellent, but one stood out more.

He swallowed, then looked at Y/N, who was watching him with bated breath. “They’re both good, but the chocolate hazelnut is the one,” he said, nodding slightly as he made his decision. “It’s got that something special.”

Y/N beamed, clearly delighted with his choice. “Good”.

Harry couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at his lips at her words, though he quickly tried to mask it by handing the fork back to her. Gina, ever observant, caught the momentary softness in his expression and filed it away with a satisfied smile of her own.

Harry gave her a brief nod, his smile fading back into his more guarded expression. “Glad I could help. But now I really do need to get back to work.”

With one last look at her, Harry turned and headed back toward the hallway, his men falling into step behind him. Y/N watched him go, a mixture of satisfaction and worry swirling in her chest. She had won him over, if only for a moment, but the lingering coldness in his demeanor reminded her that something was off.

Gina, sensing Y/N’s unease, reached out and squeezed her hand. “You’ll get through to him,” she said reassuringly. “He’s just got a lot on his plate right now.”

Y/N nodded, though her heart still ached with the desire to reach him, to break through whatever walls he was building between them. “I know,” she said softly. “I just wish he’d let me in.”

As the sound of Harry’s footsteps faded down the hall, Y/N turned back to the table, her thoughts still with him. The wedding was fast approaching, and while they had just settled on the cake, she knew there was much more that needed to be figured out—not just for the wedding, but for the two of them.

A few days had passed since the cake tasting, and the sense of unease that Y/N couldn’t quite shake had only grown stronger. Harry was distant, more so than usual, and though she tried to focus on the wedding preparations, her thoughts kept drifting back to the coldness she felt from him.

Late one afternoon, Y/N’s phone rang, the name on the screen stopping her in her tracks: Federico. Her father rarely called, and when he did, it was never without an agenda. With a mix of irritation and resignation, she answered.

“What do you want?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

“Is that how you greet your father?” Federico’s voice was smooth, but there was a familiar edge to it that made Y/N’s stomach tighten. “I’ve been thinking, with the wedding approaching, it’s time we discussed the details. I want to make sure everything is in order.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, knowing better than to believe this was about the wedding. “Everything’s fine. I’ve got it under control.”

“Clearly, you don’t,” Federico replied, his voice dripping with condescension. “Meet me at home. There are things we need to discuss. Important things.”

Y/N’s grip on the phone tightened. The old estate—a place that had never felt like home, no matter how lavish it was. It was a place of cold memories, of power and control. She hadn’t been there in years, and the thought of going back now filled her with dread. But she knew better than to refuse him.

“Fine,” she said, her voice devoid of warmth. “I’ll be there.”

Federico didn’t bother with pleasantries before hanging up, leaving Y/N with a hollow feeling in her chest. She knew what this was—a power play. He was reminding her of her place, of the control he still wielded over her life. But she wasn’t the scared little girl she once was. Not anymore.

[punchouthottakes]

FLAMING HOT TAKE INCOMING, DISCLAIMER FIRST: punch out is a game with no lore and little to no characterization so it’s natural that different people have different takes on a character and I 10000% respect that and I love seeing how people interpret stuff differently from me!!!!! this is not a dig or a diss this is just personal observation!!!!!!!!!!

i don’t get why the overall fandom consensus is that don flamenco is head over heels in love with the blonde lady [that the fandom calls Carmen (this I do understand why)] in his cinematic trailer. it’s always been apparent to me that this guy is supposed to be like a casanova/serial womanizer/harem enthusiast douchebag kinda guy.

1. country of origin and profession: every enemy character in this game is supposed to be an exaggerated cultural stereotype/caricature, so it’s natural to assume that most of their character traits are not meant to subvert audience expectations, and flamenco is no exception! Spaniards are stereotyped as carelessly romantic, and toreadors seem to be associated with more socially conservative or dare I say, sexist/woman objectifying behavior. it would be logical to presume that flamenco also embodies these traits

2. contender intro slideshow: most people (and I as well) like to use the final slide of his contender intro as evidence of his romantic status. however, I fail to see how it shows him as faithful; on the contrary, the fact that the girls around “Carmen” are a. (for one of them) also wearing roses - the same color as the one he’s giving her, in fact - and b. clearly looking shocked and disgusted seems to show me that those girls were also the object of flamenco’s short-lived affection and that the blonde girl is just his next “target” so to speak.

now how to justify his in-battle voice lines referring to his affection for carmen? well look no further than Carmen, the opera by Bizet, where the titular Carmen ends up being with a toreador (like don flamenco). it could be possible that he uses “Carmen” as a pet name for all of his flings rather than the actual name of his one true love

please feel free to prove me wrong bc I see nobody else with this interpretation and I wanna know why everyone agrees that he’s a faithful boyfriend/malewife lmao

[dramaticallytotal]

The Rise of Team E-Scope Headcanons: Part One.

Idea Post

• Niagra Brawls couples

- Courtney & Owen

- Alejandro & Izzy

- Eva & Noah

- Heather & Duncan

- Bear & Blaineley

• I adore Molotov the bear from Cinna (Cinnamas) 's fic, With a Little Help From My Friends. Therefore, the bear here is also Molotov, but he has his family also working on the show. It's Molotov, his brother Machete, and his sister Morningstar.

• Chris is about to start the wedding dress obstacle course when he sees Noah and Eva playing rock-paper-scissors, "What are you two doing?"

Noah: "Seeing who has to be the bride and wear the dress."

Chris: "But Eva's the bride?"

Eva: "Nope. Noah just lost. He's the bride."

Chris: "But that's not how....you know what whatever. Okay, Noah, our beautiful bride, join the others and grab a blindfold!"

• Noah lost on purpose because he knows Eva isn't fully comfortable nor confident in dresses.

• Alejandro fell because he was so distracted by Noah in the wedding dress, and Izzy knew that, so she purposefully made them lose balance.

• Noah is the one who kind of kickstarted Harold's elimination. He and Izzy noticed Alejandro's attention was on Team Victory, and they also noticed how distracted Harold was by Alejandro flirting with Leshawana, so they made an educated guess who the next target was. Noah made a passing comment on the cultural insensitivity Chris was promoting knowing how Harold would react.

• And of course, Harold reacted as he and Izzy predicted. Thus making the ginger more susceptible to Alejandro's manipulations.

• Eva is the one who overheard DJ freaking out about being cursed on the plane and how it's brought him bad luck. She doesn't believe in curses and fully thinks DJ is making this stuff happen because of how he lost his confidence and how jumpy his is. She also thinks he believes in the curse so wholeheartedly because he wants to go back home to his Momma.

• She talks with Izzy and Noah about sending the poor boy home, and the two agree. So Izzy makes sure to talk about how a lot of her family has been cursed and how it led to a lot of problems and/or deaths. Noah spoke more about his culture, which was great because it seemed nonchalant when everyone figured he would scoff or roll his eyes at the talk of curses. Courtney was the one who pointed out his "out of character" non response.

• So he got to talk about his culture and how they view curses. It was honestly kind of fun to tell everyone about himself a bit, considering he's a pretty private person. He even spoke about how his sister's Naomi, Nisha, and Nadia were superstitious. Of course, he didn't make fun of them for their superstitions. He may not fully believe in them, but he would never make fun of them. It's all about respect.

• All the curse talk definitely got to DJ, and DJ does end up going home in Paris since he asks Lindsay what could make him lose. Lindsay was planning to lose so she could go shopping, but seeing how exhausted and scared DJ was, she agreed to help him lose. Plus, she spoke with Noah during one of their "judging sessions" (where they shit talk people's choices, Lindsay with fashion and Noah with everything else), and he also seemed worried about DJ.

• That's how she knew it was serious when even Noah was worried.

• Team E-Scope made a confessional right after the elimination where they apologized to DJ, but told him he needed to get out of the competition for his mental health. They had seriously been worried about the dude. Of course, DJ had no hard feelings. They helped him get home.

• Alejandro walked into one of the statue heads in Rapa Nui and broke one of his eggs because he saw Noah in just his sweater vest. JUST HIS SWEATER VEST HOW WAS HE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DISTRACTED BY THAT!?

• Noah was in only the sweater vest because he was making a sling out of his compression shirt and button-up. He made one for Eva out of her sweater, and Izzy made one from the wrap she used as a skirt. She has shorts under.

• The viewers went crazy for Noah's new look. Sadly for them it was very temporary.

• Team E-Scope's training before the competition began consisted of diving off high places given Chris's love for that, eating weird things, balance practice, and building things with and without instructions.

• But Noah's sisters also had him practice other things. Naomi had them practice rock climbing, Nidhi had them practice memory things like remembering things other people told them (a-la-Beth), Nadia had them wrangle her sugar-crazed kids (Noah thinks she just wanted babysitters), Natalie had them practice sewing in case they had to patch something up, Nila had them cook, Nisha had them practice hitting things with a cricket bat (she is a professional cricket player), Noelle had them play Just Dance, and Neelima had them study their contracts XD. [The sisters are not in age order here]

[dsireland86]

Anonymous asked: What song do you think the guys would have their first dance to at their wedding including Matt please?

The First Song was posted to this request a few weeks ago, and as requested, I'm making a part 2 to it. Each song will have a short story behind it. Enjoy my wonderful Culties!

First Dance Part 2

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @Youlookforultraviolet @kenjipepsi1

Folio

It took a lot of convincing for you to finally agree to go on a date with Nick. He's goofiness and energy and energy is not easily tolerable all the time, but that's okay because you knew how to reel him in each time he went a little too far. You became his stability, his conscience, his beautiful day, his everything. So, when you got engaged and were planning the music with Noah, he asked if he could pick the first song you dance to. You'll admit, you were scared at first, thinking it was going to Metallica or something off the wall, but when that moment came, after you were officially Mr. And Mrs., and the beginning of the song came on, you immediately teared up. It was one of your favorite songs and you never realized how perfect it fit your life with him. Taking your hand, Folio led you out to the dance floor and even though neither one of you knew how to properly dance, it didn't stop you from falling in love with your husband even more.

Nicholas

When you and Nick fell in love was a mystery. It just kind of happened, and it continued to happen everyday. Five years in and you two still felt the same way about each other as when you first met. Nick had a way of wearing his feelings for you on his sleeve. He never did it with anyone else; just you. You'd tell him often that his feelings were always thinking too loud, to which he'd reply it was hard not to do it with you. You'd joke with him and say that eventually his feelings would change especially once you had kids, but that would never happen. It would only make him love and want you more. Your wedding day came and after the toast, the first dance. You took Nicholas' hand and led him to the spot set up for dancing and wrapped your arms around his neck while he found your waist and together, as close as possible, danced to the song that would forever be yours.

Noah

Being with Noah wasn't easy. You met at a time in his life when things weren't going the best for him mentally and at first you believed that the relationship wouldn't last. His attitude and behavior, his negativity and outlook sometimes got to be too much. But you stayed. Time and time again, over and over you stayed, refusing to give up on him. You loved him, despite all the hardships, because even though things got hard, Noah loved the hell out of you, he was crazy about you and the future you were building together, and you felt it every single day. When he asked you to marry him, you didn't even let him get the proposal out all the way before saying yes, making Noah the happiest he'd ever been. You asked him to choose the song for your first dance, confident he'd pick a good one. And he did. Dancing alone together after everyone had left, Noah softly sang the song to you as he held you close with your head pressed against his chest. 

Jolly

When you and Jolly met, it wasn't under the best circumstance. There was tension and irritation involved, a high lack of tolerance from both sides. But as time went on, you noticed that Jolly had softened up to you just a little bit and eventually you began seeing him in a different light. He became sort of a beacon of safety in the midst of chaos and before you realized it, you had fallen for him, even though you were sure he didn't feel the same. But you promised yourself you'd wait for him, no matter how long it took; even if it never happened. Jolly was the one you'd ever want. It took a world rocking moment in Jolly's life for him to realize what you were to him; how you stayed by him and supported him through the worst, never questioning, never wavering. It was in those moments he knew he loved you. You and Jolly didn't have a reception after your wedding, instead choosing an intimate dinner with the Omen family. But once you were home, alone together, Jolly played this song for you as the two of you consummate your marriage.

Matt

Matt was anything but traditional when it came to your relationship. He never asked you out, but just started telling everyone that the two of you were together. You were his and he was yours and that was that. When you were alone he'd call you his lover and that's what you became to him; his lover with benefits. As time went on, the two of you became such a strong team together. You became a huge part in the way he worked and managed things behind the scenes for the band and other projects he did. But you needed him just as much. He was your voice when you were too scared to stick up for yourself, he was your protector from the assholes who tried to mess with you, but mostly, Matt was solid rock you anchored to, making everything that you couldn't figure out make sense. You both knew you were destined for one another, so it was no surprise when he took you to the clerk's office in town and you got your marriage license, keeping it a sacred secret between the two of you. And the very first and only time you ever saw Matt dance, was with you, a few days afterwards when he played this song for you while the two of you were working in the warehouse. To your surprise, Matt was a natural dancer and that was the day he swept you off your feet forever.

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

I have a terrible idea just now.

Do you know those consultants (?) the people who help brides decide on what wedding dresses to get for their wedding day. I feel like Ace would be great at that job. He might not understand aesthetics very well—he finds all that high key boring—but he would put the bride first in every decision he makes. He'd smile and his flirtish side would come out in complimenting the bride to encourage them. He has definitely beat up more than a few annoying entourage.

What if femlaw is a customer one fine day and Ace is absolutely smitten! He knows she's off-limits, like get it together she's getting married, but she's so pretty! Ace loves her pouty lips, piercings, tattoos and slightly muscular shoulders. She's also very shy and timid. To Ace, that meant very cute.

He's determined to help her find the dress of her dreams!

He's happy to see that she seemed to have a good man who's willing to pay whatever she wanted and seemed to treat her affectionately. She deserves that much, anyway. When Ace asked what she wanted for her dress, Law just looked away, very clearly embarrassed. He reassured her that whatever she wanted can't be 'that bad'! She just said she wanted something simple and figure-hugging. Ace said sure and went to work.

After thirty minutes, Ace returned with five dresses for her to try. Ace told her to knock the door three times when she's ready for him to add accessories. Law thanked him and closed the door.

Ace was surprised to hear her knock the door in just ten minutes. He closed his webnovel and walked inside. Fuck- She was stunning. Despite doing this for a living, he never wanted to get married but he was having second thoughts now. To have a beautiful woman willingly dress up, put in effort to feel pretty just to be with you was an honour.

Ace finally understood why some men would simp so hard for their wives. He sure hoped Law's man simped for her. A girl like that isn't common at all!

"Ace, can I be honest with you?" She said. She had only spoken a few words to him up to this point, and they were mostly pleasantries. He was surprised when she stopped him from putting the veil on her head, though he sensed there was a deeper reason than her not liking it. "I don't want to get married. I'm not ready."

"Oh?" Ace knew he looked stupid. "What made you realise that?"

"I knew it when I realised I love this dress," she said softly. Nearly tearing up, she said, "Which is why I don't see myself walking up to him in it. I don't think I love him as much as I think I do."

"What do you want to do? The consult is free, you're not obliged to buy anything-"

"I know. Thank you," she said. They looked at their reflection in the mirror. She looked so tired all of a sudden. She looked like she would pass out from exhaustion. Ace felt bad for her. "To answer you... I don't know. I've wanted to call it off for a while now. Might as well before I sign anything binding."

"How are you going to do that?"

That was when she laughed slightly. Granted it was a sarcastic laugh but Ace ate it up all the same. He knew he was falling for her.

"Again, I don't know. But I'm tired of waiting for a plan," she said. She smiled triumphantly at Ace like she was proud for even saying she wanted to rebel. That's it. Ace was gone. "I'm going to be reckless and I'm going to castrate him and take his money!"

Ace's heart squeezed.

"I'll help," he said easily.

She smiled like she accepted the offer. Ace fell in love for the first time in his life.

[sqlmn]

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Brent doesn't understand the concept of being bought a joke, like, why would someone SPEND MONEY on a joke? Since Karen's his friend and bought him a shirt, he's like. Legally obligated to wear it at least once... ? Probably?

So while he suffers over the idea of wearing it and not wanting to wear it at work he eventually would wear it and Karen would suffer the fact she needs to actually not try to joke too much in a teasing way if it's gonna be Treated Seriously. Right suffering from being gay because oh, Brent looks nice in color. (Chris would find out about it at work that he missed Brent in color and just stares at Karen because she is an absolute menace how did she manage that.)